


A Little Peculiar

by theinvisibledisaster



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: ALIE is whispers, Alternate Universe - Sense8 (TV) Fusion, Banter, Flirting, Friendship/Love, Multi, Slow Burn Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, The Delinquents, bellarke as kalagang, diyoza is the Sun of the group because of COURSE she is, i just miss this energy okay, my core 8 makes SENSE and i am not taking criticism at this time, rampant bisexuality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26951650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinvisibledisaster/pseuds/theinvisibledisaster
Summary: Clarke glanced over at the guy who’d been hovering in the corner of her vision all day. “You okay with this?”“Do I have a choice?” Bellamy asked, eyebrow raised.“Who are you talking to?” Her mother asked, looking between her and the blank wall.“Nobody.”“Said Odysseus.” Bellamy muttered.Clarke grinned. “Nerd.”“Princess.”The 100, but it's Sense8, (the fic I've been promising to write for years) as an anniversary gift for my (first) tumblr wife.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Luna/Raven Reyes/Miles Ezekiel Shaw, Monty Green/Harper McIntyre
Comments: 28
Kudos: 71





	A Little Peculiar

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has had a funny old journey. It started over two years ago, with lots of excited yelling on tumblr, and graduated into a project I worked on the side while I posted other things. Then it became a milestone to work towards - when I hit a thousand followers on tumblr, that's when I'll post it. As a celebration. And then I hit 1k and I didn't much feel like celebrating. The fandom was dying, I was already in a fairly deep depression, and I couldn't muster the energy to even look at it, let alone write. 
> 
> And then the other day I was thinking about my friends. I had to write the final bfsn and I wrote a little paragraph about how much I love my three tumblr wives, and how much they mean to me, and I knew my anniversary with Mira was coming up (technically it's in august, but October is *her* month, so) and I realised I finally had a reason to pick this story back up again. 
> 
> Of everyone, she was always the most invested in this story. Every little snippet I sent over, every time I mentioned I *might* be working on it again, she got excited all over again, and not just with this; she's constantly supporting me and every stupid idea I have, always there when I need her, always ready to lovingly bully me for my dumbass hyperfixations, and that is reason enough for me to finish anything. 
> 
> So. This fic is for her. My first wife, my friend, my favourite dumb bitch. I love you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cluster is born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a few things before you get to the story:
> 
> 1\. I’m going to split perspectives between the Core 8 (and maybe a few of the other characters later, possibly, don’t tempt me) and this will be (hopefully) made clear by the extra spaces between paragraphs and the headings - time jumps within the same perspective will use a line. 
> 
> 2.I’m not going to write in an orgy scene, largely because the logistics of writing that are just too much for me and also I'm ace, but I might end up implying one at some point, so look forward to that!
> 
> 3\. I thought about this A LOT. So if my Core 8 doesn’t make a lot of sense to you at first, I hope you at least stick it out for a little while, because I really tried to come up with the characters who were the most different from each other with combative AND complimentary traits, in order for the cluster to work together in different contexts. (and we're pretending age doesn't matter, they're all in their mid-twenties here and that's how that works no i don't take constructive criticism) 
> 
> I spent a lot of time on this, and I really love these characters, so I really hope you like it!!! <3 <3 <3

**Clarke**

She was working at a hospital in Indonesia, somewhere in the very heart of Medan, when she first glimpsed the woman.

She’d been leaning against a wall, taking a much needed break - even if it was only for thirty seconds or so - and she’d opened her eyes, only to find she wasn’t standing in a starkly-lit hospital hallway, but in fact was in the middle of a rainforest, surrounded by ruins.

And there was a woman in front of her.

She looked like she was in pain.

Clarke made to reach out, but the shift in her arm jolted her and suddenly she was back in the hallway, trying to convince herself that she must have taken some sort of micro-nap. She checked her watch; she _had_ been on shift for nearly thirty hours. Stretching as she stepped away from the wall, she felt a creeping sensation up her spine, like someone was watching her, but when she looked around, nobody was there.

She must have imagined it.

Just like she dreamed up the woman in the forest.

But as she clocked out for the day and started walking towards the bus stop, she couldn’t help but wonder… because there was something about the woman’s pain that had looked so _real-_

**Bellamy**

Rome was beautiful this time of year.

Well, in all fairness, Rome was beautiful at _all_ times of the year, but Bellamy preferred it in November. There were less tourists, less traffic, and the cooler weather had always suited him more than the summer months - he ran hot, and summer had never been particularly kind to him, _especially_ in a country like Italy. Too much sun and not enough shade.

But _god_ did he love it.

He leaned back in his seat, sipping his coffee and thinking about all the things he’d done that had led to him sitting there in that quaint cafe near Piazza di Spagna on a sunny winter morning. A twinge of homesickness flared up, along with the memory of dark hair and green eyes, but he pushed his sister’s face aside and re-focussed on his surroundings.

The light bouncing off the water and the architecture was magical, and-

Without warning, it was replaced with something green, and he shook his head to displace the image, but it only got stronger. He was still sitting at the little table, but instead of Rome, he was surrounded by some kind of rainforest, and there was a woman on her knees in front of him, a woman who looked like she was in incredible pain.

He recognised the pain - he’d seen it in his mother’s face the day his sister was born.

But when he opened his mouth to call out, to ask if she was okay, the world shifted and he was back in the cafe again, cup of coffee hovering halfway to his mouth and his jaw hanging slightly open.

The cafe felt more crowded all of a sudden, but when he glanced around, it was just as quiet as it had been since he walked in.

He frowned into his coffee and-

**Harper**

“I’m telling you, Harper, the husband did it.” Miller was saying, leaning back in his chair and jabbing a pen in the air emphatically.

They were sitting in a diner between the crime lab and the police station, which were on the same street about a block apart, and they hadn’t even needed to order their usual or explain why they were sitting in a window booth at 2am, because all the servers knew them well enough by now to have coffee and food ready by the time they walked in. Miller was still in his uniform but Harper had taken off her vest and was wearing a comfortable hoodie, sipping a milkshake and trying not to fall asleep at the table.

She grinned. “I never said he _didn’t_ , I just told you that we haven’t got the DNA results back yet, so I’m not ruling anyone else out.”

“You’re impossible.”

“No, I just can’t alter the passage of space-time.”

“Really?” Miller asked lightly. “Would have thought you were smart enough to figure that out by now.”

“Fuck you.”

“Hey, no need to get testy. You’re still the best partner in Virginia.” He said, but at Harpers sharp, if a little tired, glare, he amended the statement. “In all fifty states. Obviously.”

Harper opened her mouth to retort, and then Miller wasn’t sitting across the booth from her and the booth had kind of disappeared and there was a woman on her knees in front of her. Were they in a forest?

The woman cried out in pain and the condensation on the milkshake glass that was still in her hand dripped down onto her fingers, and then the diner was back and Miller was looking at her funny.

“You okay there Harp? You zoned out for a minute.”

She rolled the tension out of her shoulders. “Yeah, fine. Just tired. We should probably get some sleep anyway. When you come in tomorrow we’ll actually have the results back from the DNA so you can stop complaining at me with terrible theories with no basis in fact.”

“Ha! I _knew_ you didn’t think the husband did it!” Miller said triumphantly, and Harper laughed despite the niggling feeling in the back of her head-

**Monty**

Monty was sitting at the very edge of a cliff, camera in hand, waiting for the sun to slide down to just the right place in the sky. He checked his watch, sighed, and then lay back on his elbows in the grass - there was still at least another ten minutes before he would have the shot.

The Bunda Cliffs were one of those natural monuments that Monty loved capturing at all times of the day; Australia was _full_ of them, and the cliffs were only his third stop on the coast that day. He still intended to find some of the cave systems nearby and take photos of the ancient art on the walls in the light of dusk.

A shadow crossed over his shoulder and he sat up and turned to look for whatever had cast it, but when he turned back, he found himself sitting on the grass in the middle of a rainforest.

A woman was in front of him, crying out in anguish.

There was something moving behind her, a figure approaching the woman from the shadows, and Monty didn’t know if he was there to help or if he was the one causing her pain. He watched him step closer, flickering in the mottled light from the canopy overhead, and wasn’t sure if he should step in and help or not.

His hand tightened around his camera and the shutter clicked, and then he was right back on the edge of the cliff, watching the sun creep into the position he wanted it.

He tilted his head, lifting the viewfinder up to his eye and peering through it. There wasn’t a single green tree in sight, just the cliffs and the oceans below, the beginnings of sunset starting to streak across the sky.

Maybe he should take a break from the pot brownies and stop off and get some proper food before he drove to the caves-

**Raven**

Santa Rosalia was a quiet port town in Mexico, or at least, it _was_ quiet, until a cacophony of noise and light filled the air, when Raven set off fireworks in front of the Iglesia de Santa Bárbara at the stroke of midnight, and the town cheered.

They were celebrating 130 years since the iron church’s creation and the town was out in full force.

She’d spent weeks organising the display, and now that it was finally set off, she could exhale a breath of relief.

Her eyes tracked the colours exploding in the sky, following as a shower of gold descended over the pier, and then the gold turned to speckled sunlight and she wasn’t kneeling by little rockets, but instead in front of a woman who looked like she was about to pass out from pain. A man emerged from the shadows behind her and crouched down with them, not paying Raven any attention.

“Come on old friend,” he murmured, “you can do this.”

The woman only groaned and smacked him in response, and Raven was jolted out of it by the bang of another firework in the sky, this time spraying pink embers everywhere.

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced down at the selfie Luna and Shaw had taken in the crowd, with the caption, _Just enjoying your handiwork babe._

She smiled, almost at ease again, despite the feeling that she was no longer the only person behind the safety barrier-

**Roan**

They were 58 takes into this scene and he was about to strangle his scene partner with his bare hands.

“Cut!” The director called, sighing loudly. “Ontari, I need more emotion from you.”

He knew it wouldn’t help - she was stiff as a board and had been since the day they hired her, but still they insisted on expanding her role, and even making her the love interest to the main male lead, which, unfortunately, was him. He stepped back to his mark and waited for the director to call action, watching as Ontari rolled her eyes aggressively at the note.

God, he hoped this arc wouldn’t be permanent.

“Aaaand, action!”

He moved forwards, arms out, pleading, and then there was a woman on the ground in front of him and he wasn’t in a well-lit studio anymore. There was a man next to her, holding her up, muttering words of encouragement, and she was snapping something at him, and then he blinked and Ontari was standing in front of him, waiting for his line.

“Uh,” he started, hesitant, “Is that how you really feel?”

“What kind of a question is that?” She said back, fairly woodenly.

God, she was so lucky she was pretty.

He made eye contact with the director over her shoulder and the man sighed even louder than before and called cut again. It was going to be a long night-

**Diyoza**

In the year and a half she’d been stuck in a Russian prison on an island in the middle of the ocean somewhere, Diyoza had become intimately acquainted with all forms of madness, especially hallucinations.

Which is why she knew this wasn’t one.

Or, at least, that it wasn’t _hers_.

There was a man and a woman in front of her, and the woman was crying out and the man looked worried, kept glancing behind him, and the rainforest was damp and suffocating. But she loved it. Because damp and humid and muddy was so much better than dry air and hard concrete and no windows.

She could feel seven other pairs of eyes on her, had gotten used to cataloguing the creatures that watched from the shadows, knew that these were different, these were somehow _good_.

She didn’t know how she knew, she just did.

The man shifted anxiously. “We haven’t got much time.”

The woman nodded, curling up as another wave of pain hit her. “You have to run.”

“I can’t leave you, not like this.” He was shaking his head frantically, but she was unswayed.

“Only one of us needs to be captured, Marcus, and I’m not letting it be you.”

“But-”

“Run!” She cried out, keeling forward.

The fresh, thick air, and the bright greens and browns of the forest faded away, and her cell returned, cold and unforgiving.

She could still feel those eight presences. It made her wonder if she’d finally cracked-

**Murphy**

Being a cabbie in London wasn’t the most forgiving job in the world. But there is no time when that is more obvious than when you’re booked to pick a family of tourists up from their hotel and ferry them to Piccadilly Circus.

“Where’s the circus?” The father asked, for the third time.

He really, _really_ tried to resist rolling his eyes, but he was beginning - ha, _beginning_ , like he hadn’t been slowly losing the will to live for the last fifteen minutes - to lose patience. “This is it.”

“This isn’t a circus.”

“As I already explained to your wife, _sir,”_ he could feel the bare minimum level of politeness slipping from his voice, replaced with his usual sarcastic drawl, “Piccadilly Circus is a famous junction in London, like Times Square in New York - there are no clowns or trapeze artists here, just late-stage capitalism.”

The man continued to yell at him, and Murphy glanced in the rear-view mirror, not really paying attention. Once he was sure every member of the family had left the car, he shifted into first gear and pulled out onto the road, leaving the gesticulating man behind.

A quick glance at the meter told him that the wife had already paid for the trip online, so he wasn’t even losing out. He grinned. He pulled up at the traffic lights, drumming his fingers impatiently against the wheel and willing the light to change.

The red faded, replaced with brown trunks and green leaves, and he shook his head a little, trying to dislodge whatever weird thing was happening to his eyes.

“She’s here.” A woman’s voice said, and he realised there were two people on the dirt in front of him. Since when had there been dirt in central London?

“I know.” The man said.

“You _have_ to go.”

He got to his feet reluctantly, backing away. “Can you see them?”

The woman looked up, locking eyes with Murphy. A smile flickered across her face.

“I see them.”

A horn honked loudly behind him, and then Murphy was face to face with a green light. He sped off ahead, trying to put the strange occurrence, and the way the woman had seemed to look through to his very soul, from his mind-

**Indra**

She closed her eyes.

She’d done it - a new cluster was born. All their faces, all their hearts, were fitted right into her own. They were a part of her, just as they were a part of each other.

“Did you really think you could escape?” That familiar sharp voice cut through the air. It was behind her, and in front of her, and she knew before she opened her eyes who would be there.

A red dress loomed into view.

She pushed herself up on her hands. “No, not really.”

Alie scoffed. “We’ll find them, you know. Marcus, and your new friends. We’ll hunt them down, just like we did the rest of your cluster.”

“Not while I’m alive.” Indra muttered. She pulled the gun she’d been holding out, lifted it to her head, but a hand snatched it from her from behind, yanking it away from her body.

She realised the Alie she’d been focussing on wasn’t the real one, that the actual woman had snuck up behind her.

“Oh you’re not going anywhere yet.” Alie smirked. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Something pricked her neck and she turned in time to see a needle being tossed aside. Darkness began seeping into her vision, and the last thing she saw before everything went black was a pair of perfectly painted red lips.

Indra had created a new cluster.

Her children, all over the world.

Eight people who were now in more danger than they could ever imagine.

Eight people.

Eight lives.

They were waking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts??????
> 
> anyway, fuck this show for actively trying to ruin itself, but these characters deserve to be in the RIGHT kind of connected consciousness and that's a cluster babeyyy


End file.
